Category Poetry

The Photograph

“He first deceased : she for a little tried

To live without him, liked it not, and died.”

 

 

There they stand,

those old antagonists,

posing at the head of the high-walled city,

that vast coronet of ruin.

 

Above… Continue reading The Photograph

Trace a Fraught Frontier

Where’s the fraught frontier between

Mercia and East Anglia ? Guards were stationed here

gazing out from within. And within

was somewhere to die for. And without

was someone to kill. I explored it once,

that fraught frontier, now footpath

between nettles. It was sunday

and Cambridge families were out walking there

after a good lunch.

And where’s

the fraught frontier between Wales

and the… Continue reading Trace a Fraught Frontier

To Stand upon the Earth

This is the last of a daily succession of poems I’ve been uploading “from our seclusion.” They are all excerpts from two series of poems I wrote in the 1990’s, one on Martin Buber’s concept of I-Thou, the other on Carl Jung’s concept of the shadow. They belong together… Continue reading To Stand upon the Earth

The True, the Between, the Forming

This is the penultimate seclusion song of this series, in which the hyphen between I and Thou has alternated each day with the shadow.… Continue reading The True, the Between, the Forming

Learning to Dance with my Shadow that Haunts me

Shall I teach my shadow how I like to dance ? Or must I learn the dance-steps my shadow knows ? Or should we learn a new dance, altogether ? … Continue reading Learning to Dance with my Shadow that Haunts me

The Frail Haven Between I and Thou

The Loss of Ground, the Lack of Shadow

The Deployment of Force

Still on the subject of feet and their deployment, I ask myself this question : where am I to stand in the hallways of The Lie ? Here is my answer : on the hyphen between I and Thou, my surfboard in the endless storm.… Continue reading The Deployment of Force

Making the Earth Whole

The voice of truth is bound to be a lonely one. That would seem to be a rule in human life.  For a race in question, it spells disaster.

These three articles are worth reading, if you have not already read them :

From the BBC 

From the Independent 

From

The Value of our Distress

I equate “value” with “quality” and both of these with the right hand side of the brain.… Continue reading The Value of our Distress

Copyright © Rogan Wolf – Poet and Social Worker
In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

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